


I Can't Say Anymore Than "I Love You" (Everything Else is a Waste of Breath)

by spencersmith



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Valentine's Day, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spencersmith/pseuds/spencersmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob and Patrick seemingly both had plans for Valentine's day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Say Anymore Than "I Love You" (Everything Else is a Waste of Breath)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TOMARK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TOMARK/gifts).



> I LOVE YOU!!!!!

“Bob?” Patrick calls out, putting his keys down on the kitchen table. “Bob, you home?”

He hisses out a breath and shrugs off his coat. “Listen, I’m really sorry babe but I just, I forgot it was Valentine’s day. Some of the girls at work told me and I’ve been fucking kicking myself all day, dude.”

There’s no answer and Patrick starts to wonder if Bob is even home after all. Maybe he got hurt and he’s staying at Frank’s. Patrick is such an ass. “Bob?”

****

Still nothing. Patrick starts down the hallway. “Bo-obb?”

Their bedroom door is shut and he knocks lightly. No answer. Patricks kind of worried that Bob’s moping on the other side and he doesn’t know if he wants to go in, but he pushes the door open and steps in. And, um.

****

“Uh...”

****

“Hey.”

****

Bob is grinning so fucking widely it looks like his face is going to break. And, yeah. Bob is kneeling in the middle of their room.

****

“Hi.” Patrick chokes out. He feels light headed. There are about a million candles lit all around the room and there are fucking rose petals on the floor and Bob is wearing a tux. And he’s down on one knee. “Hi.” Patrick says again.

****

“So,” Bob starts to say, and Patrick really feels like he’s going to faint. He holds on to the door and hopes the room will stop spinning. “Whoa, Patrick, hey are you okay?”

****

Patrick wants to say that yes, yes he’s fine and yes, please just ask the question but his mouth seems unwilling to form words so he just nods and says “Eghuh.”

****

Bob looks concerned though, and he gets up and goes over to Patrick, putting his hands on his waist and holding him up. The door swings shut behind them when Patrick lets go. “Patrick, is this okay?”

****

Suddenly, Patrick feels like laughing. And crying. There’s this fucking lump in his throat that he doesn’t know how to get rid of because he can’t seem to do anything and Bob is just standing there looking worried and so fucking beautiful and Patrick can feel the heat of his hands on his hips and he just, “Yeah. Yeah, Bob, just,” he sounds really breathless and a little hysterical.

****

Patrick thinks Bob kind of gets it. Because Bob is awesome. He smiles and presses his forehead against Patrick’s. “So.” He says again. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Patrick Martin Vaughn Stumph.”

****

“Yeah?” Patrick breathes.

****

“Yeah.”

And then Bob is pulling something out of his pocket and getting back down on one knee again, right in front of Patrick. He flicks the small box open.

****

“Patrick, will you be my wife?”

****

Patrick’s body suddenly catches up on the action and he squeals, tackling him and trying to hug Bob and kiss Bob at the same time which makes him fall backwards and Bob is laughing, lying on the floor in a fucking tux in rose petals with Patrick on top of him, kissing him and chanting “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” between kisses.

Patrick actually does start crying, but he’s laughing too and the lump in his throat has dissipated into fucking bliss.

****

“Bob is that the ring of power?”

****

“Mmh.”

****

Patrick pulls away and rests his hands on Bob’s chest, still straddling him. He just kind of wants to look at Bob for a second. Bob’s looking back up at him, and he’s crying too. He looks so happy. He looks so fucking beautiful. Patrick leans back down, stroking one hand over Bob’s cheek and kissing him firmly. He parts his lips and Bob’s breath tingles his mouth, making Patrick happy all the way down to his toes. He licks Bob’s bottom lip and pulls away again. Bob whines.

****

“Can I just,”

****

Patrick rolls his hips experimentally, and Bob lets out this half moan-half growl that makes Patrick instantly hard.

****

Bob doesn’t seem to mind that he forgot Valentine’s day, but Patrick still kind of wants to make it up to him.

****

Like, that was his plan. When Lucy from accounting reminded him it was Valentine’s day he freaked out and checked out of work early. His original plan was to buy flowers or chocolates or a card or something (anything) and make dinner reservations; but literally everything was sold out or overbooked.

So, maybe he had to make a quick detour by Victoria’s Secret.

****

There wasn’t a lot to choose from, to be honest. He figured a lot of people would be shopping there around Valentine’s day. But the shop was considerably empty and there was still an okay amount of stuff in stock, so he stayed there for a while, picking something out carefully. He’s been wearing it under his jeans all day.

****

Patrick bites at Bob’s lip and starts to pop the first few buttons of his shirt open.

“I have a present for you,” he breathes, rolling his hips again. Bob groans, running his hands underneath Patrick’s shirt and scratching his nails over his back.

****

“Y-yeah?” Bob kind of whispers. His blood is running too hot. Patrick nods. He finally manages to get all the buttons on Bob’s shirt undone without ripping anything because Bob looks too adorable in the suit and he doesn’t want to damage it, but he doesn’t really care about his own work clothes. He pulls his shirt over his head without preamble. Somewhere along the way his tie gets left behind so it’s hanging loosely around his neck, but he doesn’t care. What matters right now is getting Bob naked.

****

He runs his hands up Bob’s chest, scraping his nails over one of Bob’s nipples. Bob’s hips buck up when he moans, and Patrick giggles, leaning down to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along Bob’s collarbone.

“Bed,” Bob says, breathlessly. “Bed, bed, bed,” and Patrick nods; sinking his teeth into Bob’s nipple quickly one last time before rolling off him. Bob’s breath hitches but he clambers up quickly; shrugging off his shirt and suit jacket and tugging off his socks awkwardly. When he looks up, Patrick is just watching him. He’s standing in front of the bed in his too-tight jeans (which are even tighter at the moment) and his skinny black tie hanging around his neck.

****

“Fuck.” Bob breathes. Patrick grins. His jeans really are too tight, pressing the lace into his ass and making his skin itch. He brings his hands slowly in front of him and pops open the first button of his jeans without breaking eye contact with Bob.

****

“I bought something.” He says. Bob is staring at Patrick’s hands. Patrick slowly undoes the rest of his buttons. “Today. I thought I should get you something. So I went to the mall at lunchtime.” Patrick feels awkward, kind of self-conscious and a bit ridiculous. He ducks his head to hide his blush as he pushes his jeans down and steps out of them.

****

But fuck, he feels kind of pretty.

****

He can feel Bob’s eyes on him. He wants to cover himself up and hide, or just wants Bob to say something so he doesn’t feel so dumb. But Bob’s still just staring at him. Patrick looks down at himself and laughs a little awkwardly. It’s kind of hot.

****

It took him the best part of his lunch break, but he ended up choosing something relatively simple -- it’s all black lace. Black, see-through lace. He saw the garter belt somewhere in the back of the shop and he kind of fell in love, so he had to get the rest to match. He’s got it all on now. The black panties, the garter belt just above his hips with black silk straps holding up these really soft thigh-high tights. He’s glad they didn’t ladder while he was at work.

****

“I had to put it all on in the bathroom at the mall.” he tells Bob, swallowing. Bob watches his neck. “Fuck, Bob, I was so hard I had to jerk off right there. Thinking, thinking about what you were going to do to me.”

****

“Fuck, Patrick.”

****

Patrick sort of giggles. “Exactly.”

Everything changes then, like Bob realises that _holy shit, there’s an adorable twink in thigh highs that’s going to be his future husband standing in his bedroom and he’s not touching him_.

His fucking husband.

****

Bob makes an embarrassing sound and wraps his hands around Patrick’s waist, still not quite believing that Patrick said yes. He pushes him down onto the bed and crawls up next to him, running one of his hands up his thigh and licking back into his mouth, soaking up the little sighs he's is letting out. He brings his hands up higher and squeezes Patrick’s ass through the black lace. He’s wavering between taking everything he can get and easing him back, coaxing with gentle licks until Patrick settles, and catching Patrick’s swollen lower lip between his teeth.

****

When he pulls back, he can still see the marks, white indentations against flushed red. It makes Bob want to kiss him again, dig his teeth in deeper, but instead he says, “Turn around, lie down.”

****

Patrick doesn’t say anything, just groans and climbs up the bed a bit more so he can settle on his stomach, ass up. Bob kneels behind him and runs his hands down Patrick’s back and his sides and up his thighs, taking mental pictures of the black lace stretched over Patrick’s pale ass. He’s so pretty.

“You’re so pretty,” Bob breathes, and Patrick means to answer but he just grunts, fisting his hands in the pillow and thrusting back a bit to encourage Bob to actually touch him. Bob just slides a finger underneath one of the silk garter straps and snaps it back, making the pale skin on Patrick’s thigh flush red for a couple of seconds before the mark fades. Bob puts a hand on the inside of Patrick’s thigh and coaxes his legs apart, Patrick going pliant and trying to make himself more open for Bob.

****

“So pretty,” Bob says again, leaning down to kiss at the exposed skin of Patrick’s thighs between the stockings and the panties. He sucks at the sensitive skin there, leaving a bruise to remind him, later, of how Patrick fucking looks right now. Patrick lets out a strangled moan.

****

“Fucking, touch me, Bob,” he whines. His voice is already hoarse and raw. Bob presses a grin into Patrick’s skin.

“I am.” he teases, but he squeezes Patrick’s balls through the underwear before pulling away completely. Patrick makes a noise of disgust; and Bob is pressed back against him, only naked this time. Patrick can feel Bob’s dick against his ass and his hands on his waist.

****

“Patrick,” he says, biting quickly at Patrick’s side, “How the hell am I supposed to take the panties off to fuck you but keep you in the garter?”

****

Patrick groans -- half in frustration, because he probably should have known Bob wouldn’t want to take anything off to fuck him. He should have planned ahead somehow.

“Just,” he sighs and reaches down to unhook the garter straps, pulling off the panties as quick as he can and fastening the straps back on to the thigh highs. He kicks around a bit until the knickers are off his feet and forgotten because Bob’s hands are back on him; one hand wrapped lightly around Patrick’s cock and the other resting on his hip.

****

“Sooo pretty,” Bob mumbles again. He smacks both his hands onto the newly exposed skin of Patrick’s ass and rubs them over the red hand marks; spreading him open as he leans down to trail his tongue down the cleft of Patrick’s ass. The noise Patrick lets out is kind of amazing, making Bob’s dick twitch and he licks more into him to get him to moan. Patrick looks like he’s trying to crawl up the bed and out of his own skin, but he’s pushing his hips back against Bob’s mouth at the same time.

****

He keens when Bob finally pushes his index finger in, up to the knuckle, spit-slick but still slightly too dry. Bob is running his tongue around the finger, and Patrick starts rambling because fuck, fuck, Bob is pushing a second finger in without warning or lube and the warm burn is making Patrick’s head spin.

****

“Lube,” he chokes out. Bob hums before pulling his fingers out, fumbling around at the bedside table; and he needs to hurry the fuck up because Patrick needs his fingers back in him. Bob eventually finds their half empty tube of glide (“Aha!”) and he’s pushing two slicked up fingers back inside Patrick, crooking them until he hits Patrick’s prostate, making him fucking yell. He’s spreading more lube around Patrick’s ass and he’s about to add a third, but Patrick grunts “I’m ready, Bob, come on,”, thrusting involuntarily back onto Bob’s fingers.

****

“Are you sure?” Bob asks, sinking his teeth into Patrick’s ass.

****

“I like the stretch, just, fuck me,”

****

And, yeah. Bob doesn’t need to be asked twice. He rolls on a condom as quick as he can with his slippery hands, spreading more lube down his cock and squeezing the base so he doesn’t come just from looking at Patrick - the hectic flush spread down his back and neck and the bite marks and bruises up his thighs.

****

Bob pulls Patrick’s hips up so he’s kneeling properly, face still pressed into the pillow and ass lined up with Bob’s dick. He steadies one hand on Patrick’s hip and slides the other one up his back, grabbing hold of the back of Patrick’s tie as he pushes in. Really, really slowly. Patrick tries to thrust back but he’s just that little bit too tight and Bob pulls away. Patrick whines.

****

“Wait,” Bob tells him, giving Patrick’s tie a tug and pushing back in again, quicker this time, stretching Patrick open and getting his cock in all the way to the base in one slick glide. Patrick bites onto the pillow to stop moaning, trying not to move too much.

Bob starts to fuck him, thrusting in fast and pulling out slowly, making Patrick feel the slide of his dick every time. Patrick whines again and Bob speeds up, fucking into Patrick harder until his hips are slamming into Patrick’s ass with every thrust and that’s going to leave some pretty bad bruises but Patrick doesn’t care because holy fuck. He reaches one hand under himself and wraps it around his dick, attempting to stifle the moans that are trying to rip out from his chest.

****

Bob is pulling harder on the tie though, snapping Patrick’s head back and choking him a bit, rambling “Come on, ‘trick, moan for me,” and it’s not like Patrick can even stop himself, letting out an embarrassing high pitched “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” every time they slam together just right. Bob sounds fucking gruff behind him, all low groans that go straight to Patrick’s cock.

****

“Patrick, I’m gonna,”

****

“Yeah, come on, fuck, come in me, please-”

 

And Patrick can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, his hand speeding up on his dick and Bob chanting “Patrick, Patrick, Patrick,” in breathless repetition, and no amount of restraint can keep Patrick from coming. He comes so hard he sees sparks behind his eyes, but even the ringing in his ears doesn’t quite drown out the sound Bob makes when he follows, hips stuttering as he thrusts into Patrick one last time and Patrick can feel the heat of it even through the condom.

****

Bob kind of collapses onto Patrick for a second, spent, and he doesn’t really care that he’s being crushed. Bob mumbles sorry and pulls out, rolling onto the other side of the bed. It stings a little and Patrick feels empty. The condom is thrown somewhere in the direction of the trash can and Bob turns on his side next to Patrick to look at him.

****

“Well, that was...”

****

“Awesome.” Patrick supplies, yawning into the pillow and shuffling closer to Bob. Bob laughs.

****

“Yeah.” He pulls Patrick up to him and pushes the sweat and hair of his forehead, pressing his lips there. Patrick hums contentedly. “I love you.” Bob says quietly, a second later.

****

He leans over Patrick and grabs the box he had set on the night stand, holding up a sleepy Patrick’s left hand and sliding the ring on. Patrick’s breath hitches and he looks at the ring for a second. The metal is cool and perfect and Bob must have spent a fortune and he really didn’t need to because Patrick would have always said yes.

****

Patrick nudges at Bob’s thigh with his knee, hooking his chin over his shoulder and grinning.

“I love you, too, Mr. Stump. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

****

“We’re taking my last name.”

****

“Whatever you say, dear.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> WOW god only knows why I chose to make my first ever fic porn


End file.
